


wild blue yonder | fushimi saruhiko

by nihilisten



Series: my reader inserts [30]
Category: K (Anime)
Genre: 5+1 Things, F/M, Fushimi Saruhiko Is Bad at Feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-27
Updated: 2020-05-27
Packaged: 2021-03-02 20:28:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,495
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24392794
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nihilisten/pseuds/nihilisten
Summary: This woman...Or, five times Fushimi wasn't honest with himself, and the one time he was.[fushimi saruhiko/reader]
Relationships: Fushimi Saruhiko/Reader
Series: my reader inserts [30]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1048064
Kudos: 20





	wild blue yonder | fushimi saruhiko

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you enjoy this very messy attempt to fulfil the 5+1 prompt. It was fun writing Fushimi in such a non-standard setting!

“Another successful mission! As expected of you, Fushimi-san. Good work.”

Y/N sheathes her sabre and flashes him a smile so bright that Fushimi is taken aback for a split second. Once he composes himself, a short ‘yeah’ has to do for an answer. She doesn’t seem to notice.

It’s an umpteenth mission they’ve done together, and oddly, Fushimi is starting to find these less and less troublesome than other tasks. Obviously, assigning Y/N under Fushimi’s immediate jurisdiction was probably nothing more than the Captain’s whim – who only wanted, for his own entertainment, to make Fushimi’s life miserable. And he managed to do that at first, but recently, something has shifted in Fushimi’s mind, confusing him to no end.

“We’re done for today, aren’t we?” Y/N glances at her PDA, then looks over at Fushimi for confirmation.

“Guess so. The Captain has not come up with anymore useless work, luckily.”

“That’s great.” She claps her palms together, ignoring the disrespectful way Fushimi has just addressed Munakata. “In that case, are you free right now, Fushimi-san? How about we go grab a McDonald’s or something?”

“Hah?”

Fushimi lets out a surprised voice before he can contain himself. Y/N’s straightforward gaze proves too difficult to bear and Fushimi, as if to cover up for the unusual reaction, reaches up to adjust his glasses.

His first instinct is to reject the offer, but she’s surprised him. Now, that precious seconds have passed, Fushimi finds himself unable to do it.

Perhaps, he doesn’t _want_ to do it.

“…Right now?” He utters finally, furrowing his brows. As third in command in the Blue Clan, he is a busy man, and Y/N surely must be aware of it. And yet, she doesn’t even bat an eye; with the unchanging smile plastered to her lips, she keeps looking at him until his composure crumbles, making him want to curse his own weakness.

It should feel uncomfortable, but somehow, it doesn’t.

“Yeah. Is McDonald’s okay?” Y/N asks again. “I figured it would fit your tastes, since you hate veggies and whatnot, but if you prefer something else—”

He cuts her off before her talking can shatter his peace of mind any more.

“McDonald’s is fine.”

Y/N’s eyes light up.

When they arrive at the food court, the civilians timidly move from their way. Of course, they’re still in their uniforms, so everyone is probably thinking that Sceptre 4 are there on duty, to arrest someone, or at the very least to disturb their meal. Fushimi’s grumpy expression probably doesn’t help, but Y/N’s reassuring smile as she reaches a free kiosk manages to ease the atmosphere.

“What would you like, Fushimi-san? I think there’s a new burger available. What do you say?”

Fushimi glances at the pixel menu with a bored gaze. He’s not interested in trying out new food, especially not at a McDonald’s. But he might, just might, if Y/N prompts him to.

“I’ll have what you have.”

“Are you sure? I usually only grab a cheeseburger with chips. Times two if I’m hungry.” She grins.

“Works for me.”

Y/N nods and completes the order. She then reaches for her wallet, but Fushimi is quicker; he takes a step towards the kiosk so that her way is obstructed, and presses his own credit card to the terminal.

“Wha—Fushimi-san!”

Her protests are too late as the words ‘Thank you for your order! Please wait until it is ready to collect.’ are displayed on the screen. Fushimi yanks the receipt from the machine and finally, turns to Y/N, who looks very much upset.

“Why did you…? I was the one who invited you, not the other way around!”

“As if I could let you pay for my food.” Fushimi shrugs, gluing his eyes to the collect order screen. There’s three more numbers before theirs.

“And yet it’s okay for you to pay for me? Besides, I wanted to thank you.”

Thank him? For what?

Fushimi looks back at Y/N, but her gaze is down on the floor.

“It was so sudden that I was assigned under you,” Y/N answers as if reading his mind. He only manages to hear her quiet voice because she’s standing mere steps away. “At first I was like ‘ _How on Earth can I keep up with someone so amazing?!’_. But you always take care of me. I’ve learned a lot from you and… I hope we can continue to work together,” she finishes, smile turning a bit shy, but sincere nonetheless.

He wants to deny it all. She has no reason to thank him, both of them merely fell victim to the Captain’s caprice, that’s all. He’s only doing his job; plus, she learns fast, which saves him a lot of headache, and she’s not as annoying as the others, never pestering him for being impolite or cold or stubborn. In fact, the colder he acts, the more persistently she stays by his side.

Instead, Fushimi keeps silent, only acknowledging her words with a nod.

“At least, that was my original intention and you ruined it.” Y/N adds teasingly, wide grin back on her features. “What am I going to do now, huh, Fushimi-san?”

The way she calls his name and laughs afterwards don’t stop resounding in Fushimi’s mind for a long time.

* * *

Fushimi stifles a yawn, his eyes flickering to the bottom right corner of the computer screen. 11 pm. He’s been writing this wrecked report for a few hours now, yet no visible progress has been made.

The computer hall is empty, save for him. Everyone else has probably returned to their dorms, which actually eases Fushimi’s mind—the fewer people might walk in on him working until late, the better. He’s in no mood to deal with troublesome subordinates or even more troublesome superiors.

“Fushimi-san?”

Just as he thinks it, a voice resounds in the hall.

It’s not any of those obnoxious, annoying voices. It’s Y/N, who, having announced her presence as if not to surprise him, decides to come on in despite not really getting permission.

He should probably scold her, but it’s no use. She’s walked up to him already, concern visible on her face.

“Are you still writing the report on those Strains?” When she leans over to look at his screen, Fushimi needs to use up all of his willpower to keep his face muscles from making an expression he’d later regret. Luckily for him, Y/N straightens up as soon as she finishes reading. “It’s getting late. You should go rest.”

“No one’s asked for your opinion or invited you here,” Fushimi grumbles, fingers frozen over the keyboard. He’s confident he can finish this tonight if he gulps down one or two more coffees—at least he was confident seconds ago, until she arrived. For some reason, whenever she is near him all that he’s ever been sure of seems to lose its certainty.

In any case, the report needs finishing tonight. After all, it would be too tiresome to leave it for tomorrow.

Y/N sighs.

Just when Fushimi thinks she’s going to leave, Y/N pulls out a chair from another workplace and brings it to his desk, then sits next to him. Her palm extends towards the keyboard.

“Let me type.”

“Huh?” Fushimi doesn’t follow. “What do you mean, type.”

“Just that. I’ll type what you tell me to.”

“Stop coming up with ridiculous ideas. Shouldn’t you be in your room?” He avoids the subject and retorts with the most obvious question. “Getting so much sleep that you can afford to waste time helping other people?”

“Don’t say that. It’s not a waste if I’m helping you.” Y/N’s expression becomes stern as if she’s offended. “Besides, I type faster than most people. We should be done in no time.”

The weird suggestion leaves Fushimi speechless. This woman… Not only isn’t she at the dorm where she should be sleeping, she’s also forcing herself on him to do his own job. The audacity makes Fushimi more amazed than angered, or anything else, for that matter.

He glares at her, but Y/N’s gaze does not waver, glued to his face in anticipation. With that, all of his determination to get rid of her evaporates. It’s so stupid. He shouldn’t be letting a woman boss him around. He shouldn’t be feeling like this.

Finally, he clicks his tongue.

“You’re really troublesome.”

The sternness is immediately replaced with a bright smile.

It goes smoothly from now on, with Fushimi describing the commotion while Y/N is typing and correcting all the mistakes he makes due to fatigue. But he’s afraid there might be something beyond fatigue that ties his tongue; something clouding his mind, obstructing the clarity of his thoughts and leaving him on its mercy—on Y/N’s mercy.

Because it’s her, isn’t it?

Fushimi lets out a snort.

Foolishness.

“Fushimi-san?” Y/N stops typing, confused with his sudden change in expression. “What’s wrong?”

Nothing, he thinks.

Everything, he thinks.

“Let’s get this over with,” he says.

* * *

They’re patrolling the street. Next to Fushimi Y/N is skipping like a schoolgirl, telling him gossip about her friend’s recent breakup. He’s not interested, but he listens anyway.

Patrols are easily the least annoying job in Sceptre 4. Even though they’re working, it almost seems like they’re taking a leisure stroll, Y/N’s chatter and Fushimi’s reserved back-channelling in a perfect symphony. In such a situation it’s easy to imagine that they’re not just co-workers, but mates, or even friends who choose to spend time together. The street is crowded, so they stay close to each other.

“Yeah, and then I asked if she could say that to his face again—”

Someone in a crowd bumps into Fushimi’s shoulder with enough force to make him stumble.

Y/N’s voice drops and she lets out a surprised gasp. Fushimi turns around to yell at whoever is so clumsy, but suddenly, he can’t see the person. Nor can he see Y/N next to him, nor anything really.

Shit, his glasses must have fallen.

For a few seconds everything seems frozen in time. The person’s distant footsteps. Y/N’s fuzzy figure. Finally, Fushimi’s own growing irritation. He’s gone powerless and it’s the worst feeling in the world.

“…Can you,” he mumbles at Y/N, who is currently more capable of saving his face. With the world blurred, Fushimi can only stand still to avoid risking anymore shame. It feels as if not only his eyesight has been stolen, but his arm or leg.

The shadow which represents Y/N kneels to retrieve his glasses, or so he guesses. Then she turns to him. Something’s not right; how he wishes he could see her exact expression now.

“Fushimi-san… I’m afraid they’re shattered.”

Annoyed to no end, Fushimi clicks his tongue. “For fuck’s sake.” The culprit is long gone, probably not even noticing the damage they’ve made.

Silence falls while the cogs in Fushimi’s mind are turning to come up with a solution to this embarrassing situation. Without his glasses, he can’t do so much as walk two steps and not look like an idiot; as much as he hates to admit it, someone’s help is necessary. But why does it have to be Y/N of all people who’s witnessed this? The idea of depending on someone, especially her, feels incredibly frustrating. There’s no way he could burden her with his shit.

The painful silence prolongs. Fushimi is now seriously considering calling Misaki or something, but then, a warm palm takes his own. He twitches slightly.

“Do you have any spare glasses?” Y/N voice resounds close to him, closer than any time before, making his heart jump.

“…Yeah, at the dorm.”

“So all we need to do is get you to your room in one piece, yeah?”

She sounds cheerful, as if guiding him by the hand to his own room is not the most troublesome thing ever.

Fushimi can’t comprehend. She doesn’t need to help him. She doesn’t need to stick to him any more than their job requires her to. She doesn’t need to be nice to him. It’s the subordinate who should rely on their superior, not the other way around. And yet, Y/N disregards these unsaid principles completely, and, with a voice so bright he can almost see her smile, tugs at his sleeve.

“Good, I think we can do this. Hold my hand and don’t let go, okay?”

A bizarre realisation doesn’t even surprise Fushimi at this point. If he could, he would never let go.

* * *

This mission is slightly more engaging than the previous ones. More clansmen are involved, too.

Of all types of Strains, the ones with combat power prove to be the most troublesome to catch. Of course, it’s not a big deal if Fushimi is in charge, but he still manages to work up quite a sweat before the fugitive Strain falls to the ground.

Y/N, who has been acting as a support, walks up to him. “It seems like the last one.”

“What about the others?”

“They’ve been taken care of. I have received a report.”

“Good.”

Seeing a squad of blue clansmen coming, Fushimi points at the defeated Strain on the ground. They take him away. He exhales, tension slowly leaving his body.

Suddenly, there’s a whoosh.

It only lasts a split second: an unnoticed Strain jumping out from an alleyway shoots an attack at Y/N, who is standing only a few steps closer than Fushimi.

Shit.

Fushimi’s body acts automatically. Without delay, his palm reaches for the sword at his hip as he jumps in front of Y/N, swinging the blade with force.

A blue gleam appears. It hits the incoming attack right where Y/N’s head was mere seconds before, bouncing it back.

He hears her suck in a sharp breath.

The squad from before rushes to their assistance. Even after the attacker has been captured and neutralised, Fushimi doesn’t turn around to look at Y/N. His head feels like a whirlwind. He can’t see anything, anything apart from the blinding anger and a tint of relief.

“Fushimi-san, I…”

When Y/N lets out a timid voice that sounds so unlike her, it gets even more tempting to turn around. Turn around and shake her to her senses, make her realise how reckless she’s been, hold her until he’s sure that she is, indeed, unharmed. So what if he’s third in command? He won’t always be there to protect her, and even if he did—he’s not infallible.

But Fushimi can’t afford to lose his temper like this. Because if he does, he threatens to spill everything he’s been bottling up.

So all he says is:

“Don’t you zone off on duty.”

“Yes. I… I’m sorry. This won’t happen again.”

He starts walking away, as if to distance himself from Y/N, who now sounds on the verge of tears.

* * *

Fushimi is not one to be driven by his feelings.

Frankly speaking, he’s not one to understand them either, which is precisely why he avoids the ridiculous mistake of making his decisions based on something he can’t comprehend. Obviously, letting other people see his feelings is out of the question, too – though one might not think so looking at the bluntness he usually handles social situations with.

He’s a man of reason. Cold logic and precise calculation are a language he speaks fluently. There are few like him, and among them, even fewer don’t get on his nerves (too much). It should be enough to take a glance at his clan, full of brilliant individuals, who, despite their intellectual capacities, manage to irritate Fushimi more often than not. He merely tolerates them, and they tolerate him. Simple as that. No hard feelings involved.

At least, that’s how it should have been.

It’s become clear that he can’t go on ignoring the influence Y/N has on him any longer. Not only it’s making him want to bang his head on the nearest wall, it’s also annoying. He’s not used to letting other people affect him so much. He has no idea how to deal with it.

Now, with the two of them sitting in a van as a point of espial late at night, it’s even harder for Fushimi to remain composed.

He knows what Misaki would do. Despite being a hopeless virgin himself, he’s actually pretty good at giving advice, and he’d probably shout something along the lines of ‘Just be honest and tell her, dammit!’. Fushimi snorts mentally. Apparently, he’s just reached a conclusion on his own.

“Fushimi-san.”

His eyes flutter open, but the world remains dim. The only source of light is the screen of his PDA, reflecting in his glasses, and streetlights outside the windscreen.

“Are you asleep?”

Her shoulder is touching his and her eyes are – annoyingly – glued to his face. He can’t relax under this gaze. Why is she even leaning on him? Any sane person in the Blue Clan would know to keep away from Fushimi, and yet—

He forces his voice to keep steady. “…As if.”

“You can rest if you want to. I’ll stay awake in case something happens.”

He knows why this is happening. She’s doing all this because it’s too late for him to try and scare her away. Even if he did, she’d probably return again and again.

“…Shut up.”

He doesn’t understand. He wants to believe all this is a scheme, an act to deceive him. But when he looks at Y/N, whose head is now resting on his arm, all these foolish assumptions almost make him laugh.

Indeed. The only fool is him.

* * *

Fushimi sprinkles water on his face, then puts the toothbrush in his mouth. His bare face in the mirror looks hazy, almost indistinguishable, courtesy of his glasses which aren’t currently correcting his eyesight but sit on the shelf, waiting patiently until he finishes his morning toilet.

( _What are you doing on Sunday, Fushimi-san?_ )

As he puts on a jumper in hopes that it looks nice but not too formal, Y/N’s voice echoes in his mind. It’s her usual voice with a hint of excitement. It lacks anxiety or shyness whatsoever; even while inviting him out, Y/N managed to be one hundred percent natural.

He slightly envies her for it.

He leaves the dorm ten minutes before the appointed time, but Y/N is already waiting for him at the gate to Tsubaki-mon. She’s wearing a cardigan and a skirt, and her hair is down. Upon seeing Fushimi, her face brightens.

“You’ve come. I’m so glad.”

“Obviously. We made an appointment after all,” he mutters, voice as flat as he can make it—which isn’t much.

They start walking. At first somewhat awkward, distanced from each other, but soon enough Y/N’s palm stats gravitating towards his own and, curiously, he can’t seem to resist the attraction either.

Fuck it, he thinks and takes her hand.

Y/N blinks; her face turns to look at him, which he pretends not to notice at first. He doesn’t have to look at her to feel her aura soften, her eyes start gleaming and a smile grace her features.

Fushimi bites his lip to prevent it from making an expression.

“I’m really glad you agreed to go out, you know,” Y/N breaks the silence, squeezing his palm. “I half expected you to reject.”

“…Why?” He asks, a bit surprised himself. It’s not often that Y/N talks about her worries or shows negativity. Then again, it’s him who usually hides everything. She is as honest as one can get.

“I wasn’t sure if it would be alright for you to take up an offer from someone like me, that’s all.”

No, no. She’s got it all wrong.

It’s Fushimi who can’t believe it. It’s him who is amazed that she’s stuck by his side for so long. All the confusion, all these weird feelings and thoughts he’s never experienced before—it’s her fault.

She should take responsibility.

“Idiot.” He pulls her by the hand in a not-so-delicate way. “Doubting yourself doesn’t suit you.”

Fushimi says those words without giving it much thought. He has no idea if he’s managed to deliver the message. Perhaps not. He’s still terrible at the whole feelings thing.

Y/N, however, only widens her smile, so maybe – just maybe – it was okay after all.

“It seems I was right about you.”

“Right about me?” The question comes out quieter than he intents, all because of a weird tug in his chest that he doesn’t understand, but does recognise. “Elaborate, would you.”

“Haha, sorry. I just think that you’re a good person, Fushimi-san.”

His eyes widen slightly. After a second he closes them again, allowing is lips to form a small smile.

“I really don’t understand you…”

Ridiculous woman.


End file.
